“Both Sides”

My friend manages
a restaurant,
one block

from where
Heather Heyer
was mowed down

by white hatred.
Men with semi automatics
march and chant,

wave their flags & Nazi
bats, confederates,
in riot gear

purchased online
from purveyors
of the finest

tactical garments.
She locks the door,
tells employees

to get in the back. Afraid
for their lives,
they emerge

in time to see
the panic,
a vehicle.  She knows

the woman killed
on Saturday,
both in their thirties,

elbows on a bar
in Charlottesville,
and now only one left

to tell the story
over a cigarette,
miles from home,

which is where
she finally has the oxygen
to tell me.

There is no question
about who brought
the terror down.

They feared for their lives,
they locked the door,
and no gray area now…

Tonight’s story is brought to you by the president.

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Flat Planet

Hark the herald angels
sing the red line boldly,
this is not my story.
This is not our story.

He’ll tell you that the planet’s flat,
negligent explorer,
pockets lined with glory
trumpeting his glory,

full steam shipping down the line
toward the edge of reason,
he’s always keeping score, we
the people, brace for war,

lost for words but not conviction
when nothing left is sacred,
march right or you be wary,
things just might get scary,

so trade this fear for action,
and batten down the hatches,
lean against the oar,
let’s make love the allegory,
make love the allegory.

teacher haiku

I tell her my fears
and she offers the window –
the outside pours in.

close your eyes, she says,
after a while, I am back
inside my body.

her voice and the blood
winding through my veins, like a
chorus of humming.

manifestation
is not a direction, it
is an opening.

it is hard not to
giggle once I see that my
brain has been driving…

and so we do.